Vampire Kiss
by Miss Murphy's Dandy
Summary: Friday the 13th means a mad turn out for Fangtasia, and perhaps marks the a new era for Eric and Sookie. story takes place sometime after the shenanigans of season 3, but before the shenanigans of season 4
1. Chapter 1

The dress was so tiny that I had to enlist Tara in the struggle to fit inside it. It was dark green with a beautiful black lace across the bodice. The Victorian number reached the floor and hugged my chest like any good corset ought to. The dress's plunging square shaped neckline left little to the imagination, and the slender sleeves that just capped the shoulders gave the dress a look of elegance and grace.

I had braided a section of my hair from my part, along my forehead to a point just behind my left ear. It was inlaid and then disappeared as it dived into the rest of my blond ocean and was knotted at the base of my neck. The finished look appeared fine, delicate, and sophisticated.

Finally, I donned the intricate feathered mask that had arrived at my door sometime last night. The piece was couture in a way I had never known a mask could be. The exquisite black and white striped feathers weaved into the emerald green ones formed a gorgeous asymmetrical disguise. Along with the mask had been a short note, reading: Masquerade Ball, Friday the 13th, Fangtasia, Where your best Victorian ensemble, and this. _Kom Gärna_ E.

And even if I had recently sworn off all vampires, a quick goggle translation of "please come" was all it took for me to decide I was going. Did Fangtasia have a party every Friday the thirteenth? Was it always a masquerade? My curiosity was peaked.

The drive the Fangtasia had been quiet and that had given me no cause for worry, but the normal thrum of activity that spilled from the bar and into the parking lot was thunderous like I had never heard it before.

I noticed Pam at the entrance, her usual haughty dismissal of the Fangtasia clientele in full force. Except, this was not the normal Fangtasia clientele I had come to expect. The throng of humans and vampires waiting impatiently to be invited in were all dressed to the nines in Victorian regalia and elaborate masks. The crowd seemed more palpably affluent and garish. As if the masks invited the more social elite to partake in a bit of naughtiness, and no one would be the wiser.

I wondered momentarily if Pam would even recognize me in my costume.

"Don't you just look delicious" Pam drawled at me.

"Thank you, Pam. Although I feel rather silly" I replied, relieved that I still looked enough like Sookie Stackhouse to pass inspection.

But, it seemed that my words set Pam backwards for a moment. If I hadn't become more acutely aware of Vampire nuances I might not have noticed, but seeing that the Vampire world had invaded every nook and cranny of my life, I picked up the momentary shook.

"Sookie" she smiled. "Do come in and make yourself at home." I had only been recognized by my voice it seemed.

The whole of Fangtasia had been completely transformed for the occasion. Candlelit chandeliers hung from the ceiling, gothic artwork covered the walls, and long rectangular tables with lovely runners had been placed on either side of what was now obviously the dance floor, which was scattered with Fangtasia patrons swaying to the music slow and painful, dark and romantic. The dimly lit corners were filled with human and vampire goings on, and the feel of the room was most definitely old-world.

I spied Eric sitting regally on his throne, his eyes concealed with a plain, unadorned mask of metal, reminiscent of Phantom of the Opera, he was fooling no one with his mask, he was still undeniably the Viking ruler of Fangtasia. The slew of worshipers at his feet appeared more zealous than ever. He had not yet seen me, or perhaps he had and had not recognized me.

Falling in with the crowd at the bar I made my way up to the counter.

"Vampire's Kiss" I heard myself request.

The bartender smiled and mixed the martini.

As he was leaning over to pass me my drink, a vampire behind him pulled him roughly by the shoulder spilling the concoction on the floor. Words I could not hear were whispered, and the bartender quickly disappeared into the back.

"My sincerest apologies." The new vamp handed me back the five-dollar bill I have laid on the bar, "On the house" he smiled and went about remixing the Vampire's Kiss.

"If you don't mind my asking, what was that about?" I asked as I was handed the remade drink.

The vampire just smiled and made a gesture behind me.

I turned around and slammed directly into a very tall, very solid object. The drink in my hand went flying.

"Holy Honey buckets!" Slipped out before I could stop it.

I looked up and the figure was smiling. Like a bolt of lightening his lips were on mine, and the cool softness tingled against my skin and sent fire through my body. With out having had a good look at my perpetrator I knew it was Eric, felt it was Eric, loved that it was Eric. My lips clung to his; my fingers searched him out, tracing the outline of his body. I felt his arms slip behind me, to keep me upright or to pull me ever closer to him, I couldn't be sure.

"What do you think you're do'n?" I asked as petulantly as possible attempting to forcibly remove myself from him.

"You asked for a Vampire's Kiss. I only sought to oblige" His smile dark and cunning.


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER II:

"Why do you have to be such an ass?" I worked diligently to disentangle myself from the distractingly beautiful vampire.

"Why is the sky blue?" He retorted.

"I was going to tell you what a lovely transformation Fangtasia has undergone, but now I'm too annoyed to even speak to you. And, a drink 'on the house' would be much better if it ended up someplace besides 'on the house,'" I quipped looking at my second spilled drink currently adorning the soles of many shoes.

"Perhaps you should try again" He indicated with his arm that I should ask again for a drink.

I turned back the bartender. "Disaster seems to have befallen my last Vampire Kiss," meaning every bit of the pun. "I think I may need to forswear them in the future."

The bartended looked a bit nervously from Eric and back to me, which was interesting, as this had been the big bad vamp that had displaced the last bartender.

Eric leaned forward, an arm on either side of me, but looking directly at the bartender, "Dance with me"

"You dance?" I turned around and gave Eric a bewildered stare. He scooped up my hand as he led me to the dance floor. I had never imagined that Eric was someone who would dance. I imagined him as the standoffish brooding type.

"When the moment suits me, yes" He replied seriously.

He pulled me tightly to him and led me in an elaborate succession of movements. My lacking dancer's grace was swept away by his sureness and fluid motion. His large hands guided me, held me, showed me, and enticed me, while his eyes never left mine.

Once, while he held me closely to him I heard him whisper, "_Jag måste ha dig_."

It felt surprisingly right, cradled against the massive Swede.

"Eric, why is it that sometimes you are so amazingly perfect, and others, you are disgustingly horrid?"

I felt, rather than heard, the grumbling guffaw of a laugh as it rumbled through his chest.

"I am horrid by nature, and amazing only when infected by your nature. Do remember, this is a masquerade, my identity is entirely unknowable," he smirked knowingly.

And then we were both silent for a while, dancing softly to the soothing music. I felt his hands exploring my body. They moved over me like rain sliding down a window, cool, effortless. It was as if he knew exactly were I needed his touch; my shoulder blade, my hip, the small of my back, the nape of my neck. His hands were like ice cubes and feathers; they tingled as they traveled across the plains of my body.

Eric made me nervous. There was something unsettling about the way he could touch me and leave me feeling ravished and hungry at the same moment. He was dangerous in a way that had nothing to do with the fact that he could pulverize me without breaking a sweat. And yet there was a softness in Eric that I longed to unearth further.

"Why do you want me?" the question was a ghost of a whisper. It left my throat and wafted the few inches hesitantly over to my dance partner.

I knew he heard me. There was no way, with his vampire senses, that he could have misheard me, but he remained silent. What was he thinking?

I felt him smell my hair and lean his check against the top of my head.

"You're perfect," he replied as the last notes of the violin reverberated against us and the song came to a halt.

Leaning further into him, I signed contentedly. Had I really just danced with Eric Northman? In the moments I took contemplating our turbulent friendship, he was gone. One moment he had been so close, so firm, so strong, so near, and then, the next he was gone.

- 0 -

Like a lamb suddenly lacking a fierce lion for protection, lions of all shapes and sizes almost immediately swamped me. Their masks seemed to spur them into a territorial frenzy.

"Beautiful lady," a large football shaped man called out as he ran his thick knuckles across my backside.

"Hot stuff, who you here with? Wanna go home with me?" a scrawny dark skinned man with a blue mohawk and a horrifying mask that looked to have been strung together with teeth.

Like a vacuum created by the space Eric had been, the predators of Fangtasia converged in on me.

I stuck out my chin defiantly and glared openly at the unsolicited attention.

"Back off" I mustered.

This seemed to only encourage the melee.

A slender, sallow looking man with thick black hair greased back into a tight pony and an expensive looking tribal mask whistled haughtily.

"My, my. What a scrumptious looking morsel." His 's's all sounded hard and foreign on his tongue. He then began circling me like I was his prey.

"I said back off" this time louder and with more anger.

He whistled again, " She's got fire." All the while his circle was growing more and more narrow.

"Gentlemen," a familiar voice drawled.

"No need to get your panties in a pinch. This ones taken" She said with authority and a quick grab at my arm. She batted her eyelashes and flipped her hair while forcible dragging me in the opposite direction.

"Jesus, Prada, and Harry Winston" Pam muttered under her breath "What a bunch of tween vultures."

"Ow Pam, you're hurting my arm." Sometimes it seemed that vampires were forgetful of my more delicate tendencies.

"You're welcome," she drolled, releasing her talons when we were back in Eric's office.

I rubbed my sore arm and glowered at my savior.

"Thank you" I sputtered ungraciously. "Where's Eric?" I asked.

She just rolled her eyes and replied, "The poor soul doesn't even know what hit him."

To be continued? What do you think? Please review… I am totally hooked on reviews right now… like major addict… enable me please. "Will write for reviews": is what my cardboard box ought to read. Thanks for reading! -K


	3. Chapter 3

~~V~~

_Chapter 3_

"What are you talking about Pam? I'm not intentionally dense, but I feel like all you vamps can be particularly evasive and are never forthcoming." My irritation and displeasure were palpable. Sideswiped yet again by Eric's fickle nature I looked to Pam for answers.

"Look here, little air breather, I'm not forthcoming because I don't have to be, just because you asked doesn't mean you have any right to know" she returned, her bejeweled mask throwing light and color in all directions as she turned to leave.

I seemed to have hit a nerve. It was true, the person lacking knowledge never gets to call the shots. I struggled to remember a saying my Gran had once used; _you can catch more flies with honey than with vinegar_. I checked myself; took a deep breath, found that quiet calm place I often struggled to locate within myself.

"You're right. You tell me what you want to tell me, and I'll be grateful of it" I said, trying my best so sound like honey.

With that, rough and tumble Pam seemed to deflate. She leaned against the door and looked with a great sadness at me.

"I just hope you're worth all this hassle, really I do. I mean I get it, I'd love to take you down to the basement and have my way with you, but Gucci and Chanel" she exclaimed throwing up her hands, "all this pomp and circumstance is becoming droll. You'd think he was an prepubescent groundhog, scared of his own shadow" Pam looked over at me like this should clear up everything, as if she had suddenly given too much away.

"Are we talking about Eric right now?" I had assumed that we were, but the more she said, the less sure I was.

She smirked, "I'll let you see yourself out. You can stay if you like, but I really have better things to do then to save your scrawny ass" and with that she sashayed out of the office.

I felt small and neglected. The dress I was wearing seemed too formal, too romantic for the bright lights of the workspace. I let my back slide down the wall until I was scrunched at the place the floor met the wall, grabbing my knees to me.

I began to deeply regret coming to Fangtasia. I felt the reality of my situation. I was a "hassle" and a nuisance. My presence only worked to disturb and perturb. If Eric did like me, he only did for moments at a time. His seizure like adoration and dismissal left me confused and lonely.

I stared unseeingly at the tile patterns on the floor, the deep glossy blues darting in an intricate pattern along and beside the whites. Tracing the demarcation I hummed a sad tune half in my head, half out loud.

I knew I needed to find my way back to my trusty old rig, needed to pick myself up, dust myself off, and retrace my steps back through the swarm of masked assailants. I counted. I counted my breathing. One-two-three: get up. One-two-three: straighten yourself up. I counted the number to steps. Ten to the door. 27 to the end of the hall. I counted the doors. I counted the masks.

The dark notes of a piano greeted me as I made my way through the bar. I stepped in time with the music. I let the tempo fill me, let it set the beat of my heart, let it mark the rate of my breath.

I felt more at peace with myself. I let my eyes flutter closed for a moment and the image of myself dancing inside strong arms swam through my senses. My eyes snapped back open in anger. I could see the exit now. "One, two, three," I repeated over and over to my subconscious.

The slick haired man from before stepped into my exit path. His smarmy hair rivaled only by his more sycophantic look.

I stepped to the right. "We meet again," he purred.

"I was prevented the opportunity of introducing myself. I am Damino, and you?"

"I am Leaving," I said pushing past.

His arm came up to hinder my forward motion. He wrapped it around me, soft and snakelike.

I couldn't hear his thoughts and knew at once this was not just a horny out-of -touch human, this was a horny out-of-touch vampire.

"Excuse me." I defiantly stared at the stranger.

"Perhaps I could buy you a drink. Convince you to stay a while." His smile was sinister and creepy, his sharp fanged teeth descending as he leaned forward.

"Pam!" I shouted hoping she heard me wherever she was and I attempted to wriggle from his cinch-like grasp. I was going to owe her big time, but I needed my scrawny ass re-rescued.

"Pleasure to meet you, Pam" He cooed at me, misunderstanding. I wasn't sure if he was trying to glamour me, or if that was just the way his face looked.

While his frame was small, there was no denying his strength. His grimy worn leather boots trudged across the floor, dragging me along with him. His cold, dusty breath sent goose flesh down my spine.

Assuming he didn't know I was unglamourable I did my best to aware awestruck and vapid.

"What would you like to drink?" He droned sniffing my ear.

"I'm really not thirsty. I think I'll just be leaving" I smiled back hopefully.

"You look like you could use a shot of Patron." He then proceeded to flag down a bartender and order a shot of tequila.

Then I resorted to the only tactic I had left, screaming at the top of my lungs, and causing a general disturbance.

"Let go of me! Let me go! I said NO!" I shouted over and over.

Damino's grip became vice-like and a hand quickly moved to cover my mouth. His hands felt like stone, rough and cold.

I should have known that a plea for help in a place like Fangtasia would accomplish little. He was now making his way towards the back exit. The neon green "EXIT" sign buzzed and flickered as the vampire slammed me against the metal bar, stepping into the warm Louisiana night.

The crunch of the gravel beneath his feet sounded load and angry. Small pieces of rock and dirt were kicked up into my shoe where they lodged themselves between the sole of my foot and the sole of my shoe.

We were both facing the building. I glanced up at the ring of light around the single lit bulb and the swarm of insects humming around it. It had a magical glow about it. I tried to think of some way out of this mess, but found myself mesmerized.

"Welcome to Area Five, Sheriff" I heard drawled somewhere behind us.

"Ah, Eric. So good of you to make a showing at your own establishment," my captor replied turning us both to face the elusive Sheriff of Area Five.

My eyebrows shot up is surprise and relief. I attempted to shout out to him, but my lips were still welded shut with the hard concrete grip of Damino, and all that came out was a sad gurgle.

"I was preoccupied. Had I known of your arrival, I would have sent for you." Eric's words were staccato and unnecessarily loud in the quiet of the bar's back lot. His eyes steered clear of mine and shone sharply into the masked bandit holding me.

"No matter" the man smiled sardonically. "I will come to call some other time. I currently have more pressing matters" the s's in the word "pressing" came out like hot air through a teakettle.

"Then, by all means, depart. But, I'm afraid you seem to have confiscated something of mine, which I should like to keep." His eyes darted to mine, but were completely unreadable.

"Pam?" He asked Eric softly, and giving a quick tug to my person to verify the fact that he was referring to me.

"The girl. Yes." He replied.

Damino looked perplexed for a moment, deciding if he should challenge the Sheriff in his own territory or not.

The gravel felt no less comfortable on my face as I was haphazardly dropped with my hands still pulled tightly behind me to the ground.

"Ouf" I gasped as the air in my lungs left me.

"Some other time," Damino whispered as he leant over me and kicked a bit of dirt on me and turned to leave.

I heard a car start and peel out of the parking lot before I struggled to right myself. I could taste the dry ground in my mouth, could feel the cracked and bleeding abrasions on my face.

Two solid arms collected me. They brought me upright and then lifted me in a protective embrace.

Salt water spilled over the barrier of my eyelids and raced in fits and spurts down my cheeks and across my chin.

~~:~~

I was back at my car, propped delicately against the hood of the car.

Eric was looking at me. He had removed his mask. Sharp, piercing, fierce blue eyes that looked concerned and wrought with worry barred down on me. He was silent.

My tears continued their journey down the valleys of my face, but I too was silent. In my head I counted. In my head I recalled the words of Pam. Recalled that I wasn't worth it, that I was a hassle.

His fingers moved from my hips where he was holding me steady and upright to my face, where he gently removed my mask.

In the end we both decided to speak at the same moment:

"Where did you go?" I asked.

"I'm sorry, that…" He said.

A/N:

Okay, so Eric is back, I know you all missed him for his brief disappearance. I don't think he'll be going anywhere soon… so stick around folks. Planning to update once a week or so (perhaps more?) in the future… I think the story may be a bit long… if it goes the way I want it to… and rating may change. What do you think? Please write a review…. I really live for them.

Thanks for reading!

-K


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: I think I know where I'm pointing this ship; hopefully into safe harbors, but no promise of a ride without rough passages. I give you "chapter 4." If you love it, let me know… I love praise. If you don't… "fool me, fool me, go on and fool me, love me, love me, pretend that you love me…"- name that tune. ENJOY! -K

~~:~~

CHAPTER FOUR

We both stopped to let the other continue.

He indicated that I should proceed with a nod of his head.

I took a steadying breath. "Where did you go?" I re-asked.

"To think" his short answer would not be expounded with awkward silence.

"Why?" I probed.

"Because," the word short and fast. As complete an explanation as I was liable to get. He looked at the asphalt at his feet as if it might have the answers then back at me with a powerful force that shook me. He seemed virile, violent and dangerous.

I huffed and rolled my eyes, trying my best to appear aloof.

"It seems my absence was not missed. If you had sought me you would have found me." The cryptic words seemed accusatory, as if I had disappeared and not him.

"You left me on the dance floor all alone. Pam had to yank me out of what was about to be a dog pile of all breeds. Then, on my way out of this hellhole, because mark my words, this place is a hellhole, that monster decided I would make a lovely desert. Grabbed me against my will, against my…" I could not finish, did not know what else there was to say, " I wish so desperately that I had never come here. I feel unsafe here. And from what I can tell incredibly unwelcome."

"Not unwelcome."

I looked up from my perched place on the car and saw a broken man. He looked fragile and crumpled; as if with a simple touch his exterior might implode into a pile of broken glass. His angular face looked pained and forlorn. My heart went to him immediately. I could do no more damage to him and leave him whole: another angry word might destroy him.

"Eric," I murmured softly, reaching out my right hand to touch his left.

He looked up at me. Again a quiet came between us. I tugged his arm gently and scooted over on the hood, making room for him. He sat and faced me openly. His eyes were like oceans, blue, deep, and impenetrable. I could look into his eyes for hours, get lost in the cerulean edges, or the dark indigo near the center.

He blinked and I noticed his featherlike eyelashes, they were striking, and subtle; they gave him a softness that I yearned to know deeper.

"Penny for your thoughts" I smiled and continued, "I know I get so sick of listening in on everyone's thoughts all the time, but I sure wish I knew what you were thinking."

"I was wondering why Damino would think that you were Pam" he replied smiling.

"You were not," I laughed. "He asked me my name and mistook Pam's for mine. Long story. You had to have been there" I elaborated with a slight jab.

"Why did you call her name and not mine?" His question soft and reflective.

"Because she had saved me from the hooligans earlier, and you…. And you. I had no idea what had happened to you." I went for honest; it seemed to be what we were both trying for.

He started tracing small circles on the back of my right hand. He seemed to be waiting for something. The air felt ripe with waiting, with anticipation.

He turned my hand over continued his ministrations on my palm, tracing unseen lines, mapping out unseen destinies.

"Why did you come here tonight?" He asked.

I was having trouble focuses on his words. Eric held all the cards, knew all the playbooks, and was unfairly toying with heartstrings I had no idea started at the nerve ending of my hands.

"I. I." I was sputtering and stuttering like a fool.

His fingers stopped, realizing I was unable to concentrate with their distractions.

"I Goggle translated your message." The words sounded ridiculous and idiotic the moment they left my lips. I smiled at my own absurdity and slunk my shoulders in a sudden shyness.

His fingers graced my chin, tilting my eyes toward his. "_Kom Gärna" _he spoke.

I nodded my head and giggled shyly, "you asked so nicely. I couldn't resist.'

He seemed to stop there and think. He was so still he appeared statuesque.

"Couldn't resist?" He repeated. He looked at me painfully for another moment and then continued, "I don't think you understand the meaning of resistance."

The harshness had returned to his voice and I could feel the tension rebuilding between us. He released my hand and turned ever so slightly away from me, seeking distance.

He laughed sardonically and added, "You resist with ease and carelessness." It felt like blame. I sought desperately to diffuse his anger.

"Please Eric, don't be like this. You can be so frustrating. One moment I think, 'hey, this guy'" Eric lifted an eyebrow, "okay, 'this vampire,' happy?" He smiled softly. I continued, " 'this vampire is so complex and has such depth of character' and then the next you fuck it up and I am back to wondering what I ever saw in you."

"Think whatever you want" he said conspiratorially against the soft skin of my inner ear.

I leaned away with great perseverance.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean? Don't play games with me Eric, I'm not your toy, your play-thing?"

"Who said we were playing?" He tone serious.

I threw my hands in the air. "What? Are we even speaking the same language? I feel like I'm trying to have a conversation with a drunk crocodile who has a taste for blondes, but not the stomach!"

"I think you lost me there" he smiled, his sure easy smirk lighting his features once again.

"What do you want from me?" I finally hurled at him exasperated.

His eyes pieced into mine: pleading, threatening violence, and promising safety. They seemed to say, "love me, hate me, hold me, beat me, kiss me, scold me, don't ever leave me," all at once.

The closed ever so briefly, and I heard him exhale, "everything."

* So what do you think? Please review… if would make my day (probably my week… yeah I'm pretty desperate. Take pity).


	5. Chapter 5

Hello again. Thank you all for the support! I have the next installment here for you. I have really struggled with Eric's character; I hope that both he and Sookie have come off three-dimensional and not just ambivalent and indecisive. Please enjoy!

CHAPTER V:

The air in my lungs caught in my throat. I felt like I could neither exhale nor inhale. My fingers curled around the bumper of the car and my arms felt like the suspension cables of a bridge; you might drive over them safely, so surely were they bolted to the metal below me.

My mind reeled. Eric is a force of nature: the perfect storm. The intensity of his attraction would be devastating; the flood waters of his rejection: obliterating. The fertile plains of my soul would be left barren and empty, the mountainous peaks of my heart, flattened and demolished. I feared he would leave me hallow. Eric would leave me shredded nothingness. His flame, too hot, would at first warm me blissfully, but would leave only ashes.

I blinked up at him fearfully, shrinking into myself. He was too dangerously beautiful.

"You would destroy me. You destroy me now." I finally whispered in reply.

I knew what he had meant when he had said he had wanted everything from me. He meant to consume me, eat at my spirit, devourer my heart, and nibble relentlessly on my soul.

"Do you deny wanting me? Do you deny doing to very same to me?" he spat.

"I hold no power over you. My blood may sing to you, but I could not enslave your heart. Do not pretend to be the one at risk, the one to lose." I countered quietly.

"You think I enslave you?" he repeated in a voice that seemed to say, my argument was preposterous.

"You want to own me; own me as you would own at trinket, or even a prized jewel. You do not want to love me. You want ownership, that I should belong to you, that I should be yours." I continued.

"You ought to be mine." He replied simply.

"Well, that's not what I want. Why don't you go find Yvette? She would love nothing more than to be owned and enslaved."

"I do not want Yvette. Do not speak of her to me!" He raged.

"Why? Because she is the most perfect example of your relationships with women? Because she is any evidence anyone would need to see how little you care for your conquests?" I egged him on, feeding on his anger. We were so good at fighting.

"With women in general yes. But, not with you." He was practically yelling. He stood and turned on me so that each of his arms branched on either of mine as he leaned over me. I could not tell if the maneuver was meant to be menacing or provide closeness.

"Are you blind? Can you not see the shackles that bind us?" His voice had dropped, but the anger had not.

"I refuse to be bound to you!" I spat back.

"Blind yourself to your own demise, Sookie. You belong to me. You are mine." The words were so assured and confident, I wondered if they might be true; as if, in reality, I had been chained to him since our first meeting when his eyes claimed mine from across the room and beckoned me over in a language only we could understand.

I closed my eyes to close the connection. I would choose blindness.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8

We stayed this way for several minutes: my eyes squeezed tightly shut, blocking the immense Swede from my vision, feeling the minuet vibrations of Eric as he raged all around me, still externally, but the vibrations of his inner anger resounding against my skin and penetrating deeply through me.

Finally I heard a curt and strained voice.

"You should leave, before I do something we will both regret." There was a defeated quality to his tone.

I opened my eyes. He was all around me, encompassing my vision. He was the world around me. He was my world.

I tried to evade the eyes that seemed to seek me out, seemed to find me wherever I looked.

"There are many things to be regretted tonight, Eric. I wouldn't even know where to begin." I heard myself, my words more harsh than I meant them. I raised an eyebrow, "the Vampire's Kiss was most certainly a lapse in judgment."

His body seemed to become more solid and more dense. His eyes found their mark and I felt myself swimming again in blue. Perhaps, drowning would be more apt.

"You flirt with danger, little bird. Exercise some caution in the lion's den." His warning would not be repeated. It would not need to be. The threat was well understood. I needed to tread more carefully; the vampire was reaching a threshold of tolerance.

I made to stand, but found the edges of my dress pinned between Eric's steely grip and the hood of the car.

"Excuse me," I offered as politely as I could muster.

He leaned away and took a step back from the car. I worked at reorganizing my gaudy costume. I felt his eyes on my as I worked.

I found the key I had stowed in my boot and walked to the driver's side of my car.

"Are you able to drive?" Concerned now.

I looked up at him from the side of the car and gave him a soft smile.

As I was sliding into the driver's seat I heard the air buzzing of fast forwarded movement and found Eric suddenly wedged between the car and door handing me my seatbelt.

"I don't want you to leave while this discussion is unfinished. But," he added reluctantly, "We have reached an impasse for the moment. I should like to continue this conversation tomorrow evening."

"I'm not coming back here" I replied resolutely.

"I will see you tomorrow evening" he smiled, deliberately ignoring me.

"On one condition" I spoke suddenly, surprised at myself.

"I do not barter," his voice unyielding.

"You tell me where you went when you left."

His eyes grew imperceptivity harder. "No."

"I will not speak to you again until you do" I felt my right hand guide the key into its chamber and revved the car's engine to life.

Eric was not the type who regularly met with obstinacy. My refusal of him seemed to have poured accelerant on the fire. I felt his eyes like lasers boring into me, hot, angry, violent.

"I'll see you when I see you" I said mildly, looking at him a bit sadly, because I really didn't want to leave like this either.

"We will discuss it tomorrow." I nodded my head. Not knowing what "it" meant. Not sure whether or not I had won, or lost. I turned my eyes homeward and transferred my foot from the brake to the gas, leaving Eric and his relentless eye in my wake. I chanced a single glance in my rear view, but his visage had already disappeared.

I thought about this strange evening on my monotonous drive home. It was just one of a slue of insane nights that seemed to occur with more and more regularity. Had this become my normal? I had been so sure that cutting away the gangrenous appendage of supernatural would solve my problems, that breaking my relations with Bill would restore sanity to my world. It seemed that I was an addict, that I could not drop the habit. Was I hooked on crazy? Did I need all this madness in my life? Did the madness need me?

SO, WHAT DO YOU THINK? Care to give a bit of feedback to a writer who is equally addicted to reviews as Sookie is to Eric? Eric pins your dress to the hood of the car and vibrates excitedly if you do…


	6. Chapter 6

The morning sun shone brightly through the kitchen window. It was such a stark contrast to the night before.

After a quick shower and toast, I opened the front door for the paper and mail. A small wax sealed envelope with tiny scrawl was mixed in with a slew of bills and ads. I tossed the pile on the front table in irritation and threw myself onto the couch to examine the paper.

The paper was a favorite tradition of mine. The way the pages crumpled and the ink smudged almost made me giddy.

On the third page I spied an article about Fangtasia. "Blah, blah, blah… largest turn out for masquerade event at Shreveport's Fangtasia…. Costumers enraged after being dismissed from…. Closed early last night due to…" I found myself scanning the material faster, picking up mere words and strings of thoughts, "question of refunds… Owner and face of establishment…. unavailable for comment… unprecedented… vampire altercation… unheard of... local authorities have been asked…. Not investigate the… question of whether… parties are not pressing charges…. Affect the clubs popularity."

I slammed the paper down, feeling panicky and impotent, stuck in daylight when it seemed that only in the dark of night was is possible to accomplish anything. Frustrated by the futility of my rage, my curiosity, my anxiety, fear that Eric may have done something particularly dangerous, I took a meditative moment; I inhaled as slowly and deeply as possible, and must have sounded like a elephant with a severe cold.

I picked up the article and reread it, finding no real answers, only more questions. Who had fought? How were the people allowed to leave without being glamoured? Why did Eric close early? Would this affect the business? Where was Eric now? Was he safe and resting? Or was he in danger? Crap.

I rushed back over to my letter and ripped off the envelope hastily.

The scrawl inside was just as neat and tiny as the handwriting on the envelop:

_We left things unfinished. Your ride will arrive at 7pm. Be ready then. Kom Gärna E._

I stared quizzically at the paper, as if I might argue with it.

I exhaled loudly, crumpled the parchment, and heaved it with all my might as far as I could. I would go. But, I would regret it, I was sure.

"It's a good thing you said please," I muttered under my breath, for only myself to hear.

(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)

I was ready at 6:30, but didn't want to seem like I was too excited about Eric's demands, so I putted around for several minutes when I saw the unmarked car with dark windows pull up the drive.

My cell chimed and buzzed. I checked the incoming text:

_If you make me get out of this car, Breather, you will deeply regret it. Hugs, Pam._

No use keeping Pam waiting, she was usually only too ready to keep her promises, or threats, as the case may be.

I ran out the door and to the waiting car, sliding into the front seat ungracefully.

"Good evening, Pam" I muttered.

"Sookie. How lovely of you to be timely," she drawled, unimpressed. "Eric will be pleased to know you are just as terrible at following direction as ever."

"You'll be pleased to know that I don't care what Eric thinks" I spat back in anger.

"Please," she purred, "get feisty, I like you best when you're all puffed up and irrationally insubordinate."

I rolled my eyes.

"Dearest trinket, don't roll your eyes. I detest eye rolling. The last human that rolled their eyes lost them."

I stared straight ahead unblinkingly.

It was a long and insufferable ride to the bar. Pam opened her door and then turned to me off-handedly mentioning, "He's waiting for you in the basement."

Great. My least favorite place of all time: the basement. I had horrible basement memories. There were scenes tattooed to my retinas from the basement that might never leave me.

The bar looked much as it had when I had left it, save the caution tape, dim lighting, and lack of people milling about. It was clean and barren. Without the throng of crazed vampires, the place didn't look quite as threatening.

I was wearing casual flats and was unsuccessful in my attempt at stomping down the stairs. I was, however, successful in looking the angry teen part: arms folded haughtily across my chest, eyebrows sinking down my forehead, and a tight flat line of lips. I was a picture of, "I don't want to be here, leave me alone."

Eric was nowhere in sight. My show was wasted on a lack of audience.

I had reached the bottom of the stairs and turned in all directions. There was a note on the table.

_Be here shortly, E_

Oh, so he could show up whenever he deemed it worthwhile, regardless of my time? But, I had to be promptly on time? I went from irritated to red-hot anger in moments.

I was tapping my toes and blowing hair out of my face with a great exhale when I felt a rush of air as something whizzed by me in a blur of color and solid mass.

"My apologies. An important call" He smiled arrogantly. His teeth shown white and perfect. His leather jacket fitted just so. His blonde hair falling glamorously and his height towering left me breathless for a moment. And I hadn't even looked at his eyes yet.

"You're not excused," I stammered.

"Neither are you," he returned.

"Excuse you?" I replied, louder.

"Thank you." He smiled, overlooking the tone of my reply.

"That's not what I meant" I sulked.

"Semantics."

I rolled my eyes.

"Did you just roll your eyes?"

"Let me guess, you have a thing about that too?" I asked exasperated.

"Perhaps. How did you guess?" His fingers swept up thoughtfully to the hollow under his chin; perplexed, bemused.

"You passed it on to your progeny." I said flatly, re-crossing my arms and turning away from him.

We both paused, realizing we may be more stuck in futile conversation this evening than we had been last night.

"Is this where you went last night?" I asked.

"Yes."

"You didn't come down here alone." A statement. I knew it was the truth.

"You can not dictate my movements," his words defensive and short.

"It would seem not."

"Sookie, I'd like for you to be mine." He said, as if he were saying he wanted me to pass the salt. I felt him step closer.

I was about to reply something spiteful and angry, when I felt his cool fingers grace my lips.

"Before you say something I'm almost certain you'll regret, I'd like you to let me finish."

His words carried a kind of gravitas that was hard to deny.

"I know you think I am irreprehensibly evil; that you believe me to have no values; that you think I am untrustworthy and unkind. That I use women for sex." He paused.

"Well that last part may be true.

But, Sookie, I have never hated something so much as I do now. I hate being away from you. I hate not seeing how you respond or react to something. I hate not knowing exactly what you are doing when you are not where I can see you.

I think about you unceasingly. You're like this nagging, chirping bird, that won't stop. Constantly I hear you in my head. 'What would Sookie think about this or that?'

It's miserable.

I must have you as my own," he finished.


End file.
